chai. They eat and drink gratefully. The soldiers look at them sidelong but do not otherwise interact with them. Veronica supposes she and Jacob must look somewhat grotesque; her head is still bandaged, and they are both moving stiffly and covered by scabbed-over cuts and scrapes.
Eventually an officer stands and begins to bark loud orders in Hindi. The Indian peacekeepers climb in and begin to strap themselves into the fold-down seats around its cargo area. After a few confused moments Veronica and Jacob join them. The seats are surprisingly comfortable. The cargo space is full of all manner of boxes, crates, and bags, enough for a small truck, all tied down with netting. There are about forty passengers. Only a few seats are left folded up and unoccupied.
"I wish we could have said goodbye," Veronica says. They tried, but Tom, Judy and Susan were still under sedation.
Jacob nods.
"Are you going back to Canada?"
"No."
"I'm not going back either."
He looks at her, surprised. "Why not?"
"Because I don't want to."
Jacob doesn't say anything.
"Are you still going to try to find out who did it? After what Prester said?"
He says, simply, "Yes."
The pilots are the last to board. Doors are closed, interior lights come on, the engine shudders into life, and the big chopper's two rotors begin to spin. A peacekeeper gives Veronica and Jacob earplugs. Even with them it is soon too loud to think. The rotor above them becomes a translucent blur.
The world wobbles for a moment, and then the ground falls away. Veronica's stomach lurches, but after the first few dizzying moments, the flight is surprisingly stable. The sides of the helicopter are open and she can see Goma to the north, divided by the jet-black lava field that snakes in an unbroken line up to smoldering Mount Nyiragongo. On the other side lies placid Lake Kivu. Veronica thinks of what Prester said about the tons of lethal gases trapped in that lake, how it too is a killer. She is glad to be leaving. She reaches out and takes Jacob's hand, and he squeezes hers comfortingly.
They fly north, between two of the spectacularly jagged Virunga peaks, and over a sea of rolling hills. At one point they pass right over a particularly deep and dense patch of green, and Veronica sucks in breath sharply. Beyond the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest a red lacework of roads begins. The helicopter continues east above the roads and emerald hills of Southern Uganda, and then across the huge blue expanse of Lake Victoria, so vast that water is all they can see in every direction for some time. It takes them about an hour to reach Entebbe.
Kampala's airport is an enormous field of tarmac dotted by buildings, airplanes, and vehicles. They land on the military side of the airfield, and the helicopter powers down. The soldiers allow Veronica and Jacob to disembark first. Strick told them that a Jeep would take them to customs and then Kampala, but nobody seems to be waiting for them.
"Military efficiency," Jacob mutters. "Hurry up and wait."
They sit in the shadow of the huge helicopter and watch their fellow-passengers file across the tarmac to one of the long, low buildings on the periphery. Peacekeepers walk and drive up to and around the helicopter, load and unload cargo. They hear the white-noise scream of a jet taking off on the other side of a huge hangar. Veronica feels like an ant who has found her way into the innards of some vast and incomprehensible machine.
At length she says to Jacob, "Listen. I don't think you should get any more involved in this." She knows he doesn't want to hear it, but feels like she has to try. "Prester was right. It's too dangerous. You're not, you're not trained for this. Think about it. I mean, rationally. You're an engineer. All this crazy stuff, spies, Al-Qaeda, smugglers, war criminals, genocidal killers - I mean, no offense, but honestly, Jacob, what do you think you can really do except get yourself in more trouble?"
He smiles darkly. "More than you might expect."
It sounds like empty bravado. Veronica shakes her head and looks away.
"More than anyone expects, now that Derek's gone."
She blinks and turns back. "What do you mean?"
Jacob says, "I mean there's a reason Derek asked me to come to Uganda. Just like there was a reason he invited you to Bwindi. I'm not here just because he wanted my smiling face around. I'm here because he knew what I can do."
"What can you